]]>
]]>
]]>
(how are you)
]]>
]]>
your hands grew so very cold
with mine, so very warm
]]>
]]>
i'll scratch some wood
and just for you
i'll drop a consonant or two
and hide a note beneath the leaves
to fill your head with giggles and breeze
a glance and then a nudge
at the time your elbows touched
the still wet wall
and we forgot about them all.
]]>
it seems like only yesterday
that she was begging me to stay
so very very
far away
between those late hours,
those argumentative minutes,
and those frightened little riots..
this is just something
for someone.
scratch at you
crawl through me
]]>
but your day is almost over, dear,
your day is almost done.
we're just watching for the weather, dear,
wondering when to run
]]>
]]>
of course we'll try our best
but it hasn't mattered less
since you wished your hair was red,
and i wished that i could still
fit underneath the bed.
(or the time we disagreed about whether the window would stay open in the winter)
]]>
time will never be the problem now
as leaves and hair and remembered things begin to curl,
and your love -
not as brave as it ought,
nor as utter as you thought,
long since seeped into the wax-stained walls..
and the carpet under carpet
there for fear of giving those beneath
something to talk about.
]]>
]]>
]]>
]]>